


Kissing Lessons

by Charlotte_Stant



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon What Canon, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlotte_Stant/pseuds/Charlotte_Stant
Summary: “It isnotfine that my best friend in the world is twenty years old and ain’t ever been kissed,” Bucky interrupted firmly.  “Steve, we’re going to fix this.  I know I'm not a dame and I sure ain’t pretty, but I can show you what to do so’s next time you’re out on a date you feel more sure of yourself, okay?"Steve closed his eyes for a long moment.  His voice cracked slightly when he spoke.  “Okay, Buck.  If you want.”(In 1940's Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes realises that his best friend Steve has never kissed anyone.  Bucky, being the good friend that he is, offers him lessons.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Уроки поцелуев](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344812) by [vslvsct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vslvsct/pseuds/vslvsct)



> So! I have never actually seen any of the Avengers or Captain America movies, or read any of the comics. I have, however, ~~done a lot of research~~ read a lot of the James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers tag. I hope you enjoy.

Bucky swung into the apartment, flushed and glowing. He was kinetic, larger than life, flinging himself from the sofa, where Steve sat with a sketchbook, to the tiny rickety kitchen table, to the doorway, bouncing with energy.

“Good date?” Steve asked dryly.

“Ah, it was all right. I tell you what, though—Margie Simmons sure can kiss.” Buck flopped onto the sofa and grinned at Steve. It was a run-away-with-me grin, a we-can-do-anything-together, with-you-to-the-end-of-the-line grin. Steve looked away and stared at his sketchbook. He had been drawing the window between their two beds, which faced out onto a brick wall.

“Sounds nice, I guess, Buck.”

“Whaddaya mean _sounds nice_? I mean—Stevie—you have kissed someone before, right?” Bucky’s face was unusally earnest, still flushed with jubilation, his eyes bright.

“Well I guess I’m just not—I’m not really the type of guy that gals want to kiss, Bucky.” Steve found his pencil again and began shading in a brick, frowning in concentration.

“Hey now, don’t talk like that.” Bucky punched his shoulder, lightly. “What about Annie Blacklock? You went on a coupla dates with her, right?”

Steve blushed and kept shading. “Yeah, I did, and I appreciate you setting me up with her, I do, Buck, but we never—I never—and I wouldn’t know what to do, anyhow. And it’s fine, it really is, I don’t—”

“It is _not_ fine that my best friend in the world is twenty years old and ain’t ever been kissed,” Bucky interrupted firmly. “Steve, we’re going to fix this. I know I'm not a dame and I sure ain’t pretty, but I can show you what to do so’s next time you’re out on a date you feel more sure of yourself, okay?”

Steve closed his eyes for a long moment. His voice cracked slightly when he spoke. “Okay, Buck. If you want.”

“All right, good. Stand up now, Stevie, sketchbook down, and face me.”

Steve could feel his pulse thundering in his neck and was certain it was audible in the small room, echoing off the plaster walls. His chest felt tight with nerves and wanting and wouldn’t it be something if he had an asthma attack right now, right as Bucky Barnes was about to kiss him? He stood, carefully, aware all of a sudden of his palms hanging by his sides, and the pressure of his belt around his waist holding his pants onto his too-small frame, and the rough cotton of his shirt against his skin.

“S’alright, Stevie, you don’t need to look nervous. It’s just practice.” Bucky was smiling down at him, looking so warm and so loving, and maybe Steve could never have Bucky, not the way he wanted, but he was going to let himself have this.

“I’m ready, Bucky,” he said, and was surprised at how steady his voice sounded.

“Okay. So the first thing is, you might think you gotta kiss a gal on the lips, right off, but you don’t.” Bucky raised his hand and gently swept Steve’s hair back from his forehead, rubbed his thumb lightly over the side of Steve’s face and down under the angle of his jaw. He cupped Steve’s head, carefully pulled it to one side, and leaned down on the other side and laid his lips on Steve’s neck, gentle as sin.

Steve thought, as Bucky slowly brushed his lips down the line of Steve’s neck, that he would very possibly expire on the spot, and be grateful for it. As Bucky’s lips reached the place where Steve’s neck joined his shoulder he sucked, very lightly. Steve shivered with his whole body and opened his eyes.

“So you can start like that, on the neck,” Bucky continued, his tone conversational, but slightly breathless. His hand was still caressing the side of Steve’s head, and he was smiling—surely he wouldn’t be smiling like that if this didn’t mean anything? “Or sure, you can start with the lips, if you want. Like this.”

He leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to Steve’s, and they were so warm and so soft, and somehow all the sensation in Steve’s body had gone to his mouth, and that was Bucky’s _tongue,_ sliding along Steve’s bottom lip. Steve heard himself moan.

Bucky pulled back and the sudden absence was aching. His hand was still in Steve’s hair, gently stroking, and he was still smiling that smile that made Steve want to lunge at him, or break something. “Like that, ya see? Or something else you can do, you can start with a compliment. Dames love that. So if I were kissing you, I would say.”

Bucky paused and took a deep breath. “I would say, Steve, honey, you’re so gorgeous, standing there like that, and I never felt like this about anyone else. I would say, honey I love the way you look when you draw, all focussed and intent, and I love how you can’t walk past someone getting beaten up without trying to help even if you get beaten up yourself. And your shoulders, Christ, I never thought of shoulders as anything special but there’s something about the line of yours, I would know ’em anywhere and I just want to put my mouth on them, I want to put my mouth all over you, everywhere on your body—”

Steve lunged forward and kissed Bucky fiercely on the mouth, knocking him backwards, stumbling forwards himself. “Yes,” he said simply, and if he thought Bucky had been smiling before that was nothing to now. They kissed again, breathless, for a long aching minute, and Steve was acutely aware of not knowing what to do with his tongue and not caring, and then he pulled back, jerked his head at the back of the room where their beds sat one in each corner, and said, with a glint in his eye, “So, my place or yours?”

Bucky’s bed was slightly nearer and they lurched to it by silent agreement, tumbled onto it in a jumble of limbs. Steve thought: _I have never been happier than this, this moment right now._

***

Steve had imagined being with Bucky many times before, in many different ways, but in none of his dreamings had he ever come in his pants after an embarrassingly few minutes of grinding together on Bucky’s bed, Bucky following a few moments after.

It was better than his dreams, more awkward and less perfect and more real, and Steve knew he would remember the way Bucky’s face tensed as he came for the rest of his life.

***

“I love you, Buck,” Steve said, and just saying it, just being able to say it out loud to the man he loved filled him with a joy he couldn’t contain.

“Yeah, I figured,” Bucky returned casually, reaching over to take his hand. “Ouch—I’m kidding!—you know, Stevie, come on. It’s always been you, kid. It’s only ever been you.”

Steve stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Some of the stains in the plasterwork struck him as being uncommonly beautiful, which he thought said more about the way he was feeling than anything else. “Yeah. Yeah, about that, Buck. I don’t want to criticise your approach or anything, but. _Margie Simmons sure is a good kisser_?”

Bucky raised anxiously up on one elbow so he could look Steve in the face. “Aw, heck, honey, I’m sorry about that. I was thinkin’ the whole way home about kissing you, I’d been wanting to for ages and I was feeling pretty happy about finally going for it and I guess I wasn’t thinking straight when you asked—”

“I’m _teasing_ , you dope,” interrupted Steve fondly. “’Sides, there’s no way she’s better’n me.” He slanted a sideways glance at Bucky and raised an eyebrow. “I was taught by the best.”

Buck shook his head. “Sorry, Stevie, you can’t call me a dope and then use a line like that. It just ain’t allowed.” But he was smiling, and he leaned over to kiss Steve again, and Steve felt a sudden happiness thrill in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback and constructive criticism gratefully received; lavish praise and flattery of any kind also accepted.


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